


Lunch Rush

by heyacas (lilypond)



Series: Heaven on Earth [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bottom Castiel, Dom Dean, M/M, Panty Kink, Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sub Castiel, Top Dean, Twink Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:28:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3297008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilypond/pseuds/heyacas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Castiel offers service with a smile, and Dean is a very happy customer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lunch Rush

**Author's Note:**

> sequel to [Off the Wagon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3293207)

Dean lives for lunch breaks.

It's not the food – though he eats a lot more than he used to, since _someone_ started getting on his case about eating “real food” more often.

It's not the fresh air, the break from the stifling office, though it certainly seems more stifling than it used to now that he has something to look forward to when he gets off work nowadays.

No, the reason he loves lunch breaks so much has a lot to do with the little remote tucked into his pocket right now.

They don't do this every day, of course. Sometimes it's just seeing Cas himself that makes everything brighter, makes food taste better and makes the rest of his workday a little easier.

But then there's days like today.

Cas' cheeks are already flushed when he arrives at Dean's table.

“Sir,” he says breathlessly. “A-are you ready to order?”

Dean just smiles, trails his eyes over Cas and licks his lips. “I think I am, sweetheart.”

Most days, now, he's just 'Dean'. No 'sir', no last name, no formalities. They'll just flirt and laugh and tease each other whenever Cas has a chance to stop at his table. But not days like today.

“Today I think I'll have...” And Cas knows what he wants, of course, but this is part of the game. He listens attentively today, writes down Dean's order as though he _doesn't_ know it by heart, eyes wide and bright and cheeks pink. He's breathing hard already, and Dean hasn't even done anything beyond texting him to tell him to put it in about twenty minutes before he got there.

“Will that be all, sir?” Cas asks, blinking and frowning a little, as he finishes. Dean hasn't touched the remote once, and Cas is obviously confused. He looks disappointed when Dean nods dismissively and turns back to his laptop.

Dean has to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid breaking character with a wide grin. Cas won't be disappointed for long.

It's a couple minutes later that they come in, and Dean congratulates himself silently. It'd taken a few weeks to nail down their pattern, but he did it, and they're right on time.

And there Cas goes, on his way to their table, a glance over his shoulder at Dean that's almost a pout. Dean keeps his face carefully neutral.

He hears Cas greeting them, familiar and friendly like always, and there – _there's_ Balthazar.

Poor guy. Cas apparently wasn't even really aware Balthazar was trying to get into his pants until Dean pointed it out. And Dean could be jealous, could hate him for it, but it'd be a waste of energy. Cas loves Dean, Dean loves him, and they trust each other, and that's that. Poor Balthazar isn't going to get anywhere.

That doesn't mean Dean can't have some fun with him.

“So, Cassie,” he hears Balthazar start from the other table and rolls his eyes. Cas has told him about a dozen times how much he _hates_ people calling him that. “You know there's a show at the Diamond tonight, don't you?”

“Mm, I heard,” Cas says, sounding bored. Dean thinks he can fix that.

“And were you planning on going? Because I can get us in for free, if you're interested.”

“Oh, actually – ah!”

Dean grins, hand still in his pocket, thumb over the controls.

“I, uh,” Cas stumbles. “No, I've got, um...”

Dean presses the plus button again, turning the vibration up a little more. He can see Cas' cheeks darkening from here, the flush starting to spread over his neck beautifully.

“I have plans, I'm sorry. Let me go get those drinks,” Cas finishes frantically before turning to leave. Dean clicks the remote off as Cas walks towards him.

Cas' eyes are wide. He looks torn between indignant and turned on as hell.

“ _Dean,”_ he hisses. Dean raises an eyebrow.

“Did I say you could call me that, sweetheart?”

Cas bites his lip. “Sorry, sir,” he whispers.

“Get back to work, baby.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dean gets back to typing, knowing he's getting nothing of value done while his attention is fully on his boyfriend as he goes from table to table. Even without the vibration on, he knows Cas can feel the plug with every step, knows that he's got to be on edge now, just waiting for Dean to turn it on when he's not expecting it. Normally, Dean will only turn it on when he's at Dean's table, but now Cas can't have any idea what he might be planning.

The plan is pretty simple, though.

Cas comes back to the other table with the tray of drinks, looking terrified, and sets them out on the table as fast as he can without spilling. Dean shakes his head to himself. As if he'd turn it on while Cas was carrying stuff like that. He's a little sadistic, but he's not _mean._

Well. Not _too_ mean.

“I have plans with my _boyfriend,_ if you must know,” he hears Cas saying, and affection swells in his chest. But that's also as good a cue as any.

He slides his hand in his pocket and clicks the remote back on. Cas stumbles backwards, catching himself on the back of a chair at the empty table behind him. Balthazar doesn't seem to have noticed.

“Oh, really? What's your _boyfriend's_ name?”

“N-none of your business,” Cas says, eyes darting to Dean for a split second. Balthazar is still too stuck up his own ass to pay attention, apparently.

“Cassie, come on. Just let me take you out once, and I promise I won't ask again if you don't have a good time.”

“I said – ah, _fuck,_ ” Cas hisses, eyes squeezing shut briefly as Dean turns the vibration up another notch.

“Cassie? Are you okay?” Balthazar finally asks.

“Fine, I – _nnh._ Just a...just a leg cramp. Need to walk it off.”

Again, Dean clicks the remote off as soon as he starts walking. Cas bites his lip as he passes his table, eyes pleading.

“Color?” Dean asks softly.

“Green,” Cas whispers, then sighs, as he continues.

Dean allows himself a smirk.

When Cas finally brings his food out, he sets it in front of Dean and clasps his hands behind his back, as if he has to physically restrain himself from grabbing Dean and taking matters into his own hands.

“Do you need anything else, sir?” He murmurs.

“No, baby,” Dean says. “You're being so good for me.”

Cas' eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip. “Thank you, sir.”

It's hard to focus on his meal when he has to keep an eye out for Cas, both to tease and toy with him when he stops at the other table or his own and to gauge how he's doing. He barely even tastes his food. He can't really bring himself to mind, though, every time he catches sight of Cas' face, sees the sweet pink of his cheeks and his lust-glazed eyes.

Balthazar, for his part, seems torn between confusion, frustration, and his own arousal, swallowing hard and shifting in his seat whenever Cas stops at their table. Dean doesn't blame him. Cas looks absolutely delicious like this.

Cas comes by to take his empty plate, and Dean stops him. “Still doing good, baby?”

“Mmhm,” Cas sighs dreamily. “Green. Very green. Sir.”

He's exactly where Dean wants him at this point, pushed past nervousness and embarrassment and into pure _need._ He could order Cas to strip and get on his hands and knees right here in the middle of the restaurant and he'd do it without hesitation.

“'Bout time for your break, isn't it?”

“Yes, sir,” Cas says.

“Good. I'll be waiting for you in the bathroom. Understand?”

Cas' eyes widen. They've never done _that_ here, never gone that far. They play this game while Dean's here for lunch, then Cas takes the plug out to finish his shift. They continue later on, in Dean's apartment, in private.

“Yes, sir,” Cas whispers.

Dean packs his laptop into his case, pays at the counter and hurries to the back, shutting himself in one of the two single-room bathrooms. It's not even a minute later before there's a shy, hesitant knock on the door.

Dean opens the door and pulls Cas in, locking it behind him, and presses him up against the wall.

“So good for me, baby,” he moans, claiming Cas' lips in a fierce kiss. Cas whimpers against his mouth.

“Please,” he whispers as they break apart. “Please, sir, need you.”

Dean grins, pulling the remote from his pocket and twirling it idly in his fingers. Cas' eyes go wide as he follows its movements.

“Do you, baby?” Dean says. “Because I think you could come just from this today, couldn't you?” He flicks the remote on again, cupping the back of Cas' head just in time before he slams it into the wall behind him, back arching in pleasure.

“Please,” Cas whines again.

“Please what, baby?”

Cas bites his lip. He's still working on the dirty talk, still blushes like a nun when he tries, and Dean almost regrets that he'll be past that soon enough because God, it's adorable.

Cas swallows hard and looks up at Dean. “Please fuck me, sir,” he whispers.

“Little louder,” Dean says, turning the remote up a notch, savoring Cas' gasp, the way he writhes in his arms.

“Please, please, need you to fuck me, _please,_ sir, I've been so good, I promise,” he babbles, tears of frustration welling in the corners of his eyes.

Dean chuckles and presses a soft kiss to the curve of Cas' neck. “I know you have, baby. You're always such a good boy for me. Now turn around.”

Cas whirls around so fast he almost falls over. Dean catches him around the waist, then trails his hand down to unbutton Cas' pants.

He clicks the remote off with the other hand and tosses it on top of his laptop case.

He pulls Cas' pants down slowly, watching, savoring it as the pale blue shine of Cas' panties is revealed inch by inch.

“God, baby, so perfect for me,” he mumbles, trailing a finger around the edge of the panties. Cas wiggles his hips, like he's trying to tempt Dean to hurry things along. Dean smacks his ass lightly, just enough to sting, and Cas whines but holds himself still.

But it does remind Dean that Cas does only technically have fifteen minutes here. Which is a damn shame, because he could draw this out for hours if they had the time.

He pulls the panties down just enough to be able to spread Cas' cheeks open, to be able to reach in and grab the silver base of the plug, to twist it and pull it out an inch and push it back in.

“ _Fuck,”_ Cas whimpers, pressing his face into his elbow to muffle himself. That's going to be one downside to doing it like this, Dean supposes. The sounds Cas makes are so fucking _pretty._

He sighs and pulls the plug out the rest of the way, dropping it next to the remote. He rips open the lubricated condom he'd stored in his inner pocket and rolls it on, slipping a couple fingers inside Cas to make sure he's loose enough.

“You good?” He asks quietly once he's sure he can get three fingers in comfortably.

“Yes, sir. _Please,”_ Cas whispers, and that's enough for Dean.

He lines up and begins to slide in, slow and careful, trailing the other hand up under Cas' shirt to flick over a nipple to distract him from what burn might still be left.

Cas is panting by the time he's fully seated.

“Fuck,” Dean hisses. “Feel so good for me, baby.” He pulls out just an inch or two and pushes back in gently, listening carefully for Cas' response.

When all he hears is a pleased, breathy moan he picks up the pace. They've probably only got about six or seven minutes until Cas has to clock back in, but they're both so close to the edge by this point it won't take long.

When he's sure Cas can take it, Dean finally digs his fingers into the jut of Cas' hips and holds on tight, slamming into him hard, whispered curses falling in a steady stream from his lips.

Cas whimpers and groans encouragement, lets slip an _“oh, Dean,”_ or two, but Dean's not in any frame of mind to correct him now.

He leans over, pressing his lips to the back of Cas' neck and fighting back the urge to bite. He can't, not where customers can see, but it's hard to convince himself not to do it when he _knows_ how much Cas loves it, knows there are fading bite marks peppered all over the rest of his shoulders, anywhere and everywhere his shirt can hide them.

He slides one hand around to Cas' cock, groaning into Cas' skin when he finds it slick with precome.

Cas gasps when he wraps his hand around it and begins to pump in time with his thrusts. “Please,” he whines. “Please, please sir, let me come, _please.”_

“Fuck, yeah,” Dean groans. “So good for me, aren't you? My good boy. Come for me, baby, c'mon, let me feel it.”

Cas stops breathing altogether for a second, whole body tensing in Dean's arms. Then he's coming with a high-pitched whine, hot and perfect over Dean's hand, hole clenching deliciously around Dean's cock, and Dean lets himself go, pounding into Cas as he fucks him through his orgasm and finally tips over the edge himself with a ragged gasp. Cas moans again like he can feel it, as though Dean coming is as good as coming himself for a second time.

They stand there together, panting, as they come down. Dean can hear his heart pounding in his ears. He runs his hands soothingly over Cas' sides as he catches his breath.

He finally gets enough control of his muscles to move, pulling out of Cas and pressing a gentle kiss to his neck when Cas hisses at the motion.

He carefully cleans them up, wiping off Cas' stomach and his own hand with wet paper towels, tucking Cas back into his panties and pulling up and zipping his pants, as Cas leans into the wall with his eyes closed, just breathing. He washes the plug and tucks it into a little pouch of its own in his case with the remote.

When they're as put together as he can get them he gently turns Cas around and pulls him into his arms.

“You okay?”

“Mm,” Cas says. “Wonderful. I need a nap now.”

Dean chuckles and buries his nose in Cas' hair. “Sorry,” he says. “I don't think they'll go for that.”

“If I fall asleep standing up and drop someone's food on them it's all your fault,” Cas murmurs sleepily. He nuzzles into Dean, like he wants to burrow inside him, curl up and fall asleep just like this. Dean wishes he could let him. He wishes he could just take Cas home right now, tuck him in bed and nap the afternoon away until it's time for Dean to cook dinner.

Instead he strokes gently up and down Cas' back and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “You were so good for me, Cas. Did such a good job.”

If people could purr, he's sure that's what Cas would be doing right now. He smiles wide enough for Dean to feel it against his chest.

“Love you, Dean,” he sighs happily.

“Love you too, Cas.”

They kiss again, soft and sweet now, slow like they've got all the time in the world, until Cas catches sight of his watch and gasps.

“I have like, thirty seconds before I have to clock in. _Shit._ No, don't you dare apologize, that was _amazing._ But I have to go. Like, now.”

He presses one more hard, fast kiss to Dean's lips before he's unlocked the door and slipped away. Dean just grins as he grabs his stuff and follows.

And nearly collides with Balthazar, who's still holding onto the door handle as he stares back at Dean with wide eyes. He blinks, gaping, eyes darting between the employee doors where Cas just disappeared and Dean himself, like he can't quite believe what the pieces are adding up to here.

Dean basks in it for a second until it looks like Balthazar is actually going to say something, and he _definitely_ doesn't have time for that. He claps the kid on the shoulder, winks at him, and pushes past him. He doesn't have to look back to know he'll have turned around to stare at Dean as he leaves.

Poor, poor Balthazar.

**Author's Note:**

> i told you i would write the smut
> 
> i wrote the smut
> 
> still on tumblr [here](http://lilypond.co.vu)


End file.
